


Sleepwalking

by xxxHopelessStory (orphan_account)



Series: cold [2]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Depression, I’m sorry, M/M, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Rape, Past Rape/Non-con, Platonic Cuddling, Recovery, adding tags as I go, platonic comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/xxxHopelessStory
Summary: It’s been a month since Mitch was found and brought back home.....But is it the same Mitch that had been taken almost a year before?AND BRO THIS IS BETTER THAN THE FIRST WORK CUZ THE CHAPTERS ARE LONGER AND EVERYTHING IM SO HAPPY((Work title is sleepwalking by BMTH))





	1. Chapter 1

Some people say life is too short. Others say it’s too long. Truth is, it’s a matter of perspective. For Scott, it was too short and when his best friend went missing he nearly went crazy.  
Months and months had passed and Mitch hadn’t been found. Scott couldn’t help but think about all the life he was missing out on. He prayed that he was safe and nothing bad was happening to him. He prayed for his friend to come back to him in one piece.  
He prayed.  
And he never lost hope.  
And whenever the phone call came that Mitch had been found, he was so unbelievably happy. His heart had swelled from pure joy and it was impossible for him to calm down. The rest of pentatonix came with him and Mitch’s parents had been phoned and were on their way in another car.  
When they arrived at the police station they were taken to the hospital and spent hours sitting in the waiting room.  
Still Scott was happy. He had no doubt in his mind that they were just collecting Mitch’s statement and preforming medical tests to make sure he was alright. Nothing was seriously wrong with him.  
But when the nurse came back saying that Mitch requested no visitors, not even his parents, Scott’s bubble had burst. His smile disappeared.  
Why? Why wouldn’t Mitch want to see anyone? Why wasn’t he happy to be back and requesting that everyone visit him?  
After a brief altercation (he refused to believe that Mitch wanted no visitors, so he tried to fight his way to Mitch’s room) and Scott being escorted out, he lost a lot of hope.  
And when Mitch was discharged from the hospital and still refused to see anyone Scott lost the rest of it.  
He NEEDED to see Mitch, to make sure he was alright. Why couldn’t Mitch figure that out?  
He needed to see him. He was so confused. He was also confused when Mitch called him some two weeks later after he had gotten out of the hospital, at three in the morning in absolute tears, asking for Scott to come and help him. Scott rushed over there and taken Mitch to his house.  
A babbling, bruised (even though it has been almost a month since everything had happened), and pitiful Mitch. Scott was confused then and still is somewhat.  
Mitch had yet to go back to the apartment that he had rented when he had been discharged. He stayed with Scott and Scott was fine with it. Even if Mitch barely talked to him and tried to avoid him at all costs, he was fine with it. Even when Mitch turned on all the lights, blared music, and locked himself in the bathroom for three hours Scott was fine with it. When Mitch came out with his facial hair shaved, unruly hair chopped and cut back down to jawline length (it has grown past his shoulder while he was gone), and dyed several shades of blue.  
Scott was fine.  
They were living what most people would call a lie. Avoiding the elephant in the room. Not speaking of the humongous shard of glass hanging above their heads threatening to fall, impale, and kill them both at any given moment.  
But like most things, the past catches up with the present and everything you have worked so hard to avoid and ignore comes crashing back down around you. And that’s were they where right now.  
With Mitch locked inside a closet and Scott sitting outside the door pleading and begging for Mitch to come out.  
“Please Mitch, please. Come out. Just talk to me okay? I’m here. I’ve always been here.”  
Scott’s eyes started to fill with tears. He hated crying near Mitch but sometimes the shit just got too much.  
“Please.”  
Scott received no answer so he just sat there. It took about another 30 minutes for Mitch to finally emerge from the dark closet, eyes red and shaking slightly.  
“Come on,” Scott said, opening up his arms to hug him. Mitch slowly walked up to him and wrapped his arms around the taller male.  
“You can talk to me you know. I’m here. I’ll never leave you alone again.”  
Although Mitch didn’t respond again Scott felt his head move up and down against his chest.  
He took a step back and spoke so softly that Scott had to strain to hear him.  
“I will Scott. I just can’t right now.”  
“Why?”  
“I just....i-I’m not ready I don’t know Scott just please.”  
“It’s alright,” he replied pulling him back in for a hug. At least Mitch had spoken to him. It had to be a step in the right direction right? It has to be.  
“Why did you change your hair by the way?”  
“Because I couldn’t stand my old hair.”  
“Makes sense.”  
This was fine. Scott was fine with it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooooo I haven’t forgotten about this :*)  
> Im just a Slow writer and trying to figure it where this story is trying to go.  
> I hope u enjoy this chapter tho :))  
> AND THIS CHAPTER IS LONG FYI

Mitch tapped his foot. Therapy is stupid. Super stupid. He didn’t need therapy, it wasn’t helping. It didn’t matter how many fucking appointments he went to, he still felt the hands on him and hot breath on his ear and he still had nightmares. Granted it had only been two months since he returned though. He had rented an apartment because he just couldn’t go back to his old house but being alone in an empty apartment  wasn’t any better. Any sound outside of his door scared the shit out of him. He ended up calling Scott in a panic and asking to stay with him and the older male agreed immediately.

“How are things today,” his therapist, Wanda (that’s what she wanted him to call her apparently) asked.  
“Ok.”  
“Just ok?”  
“Yup.”  
She continued asking him pointless questions that he answered with one syllable words or didn’t answer at all. He hated therapy.  
Mitch brushed a stand of light blue hair out of his eyes and glanced up at the clock.  
**12:37pm.**  
“Can I go now? I need to go to the grocery store.”  
Lie. He hadn’t gone to the grocery store in forever. Scott did all the shopping.  
“Sure,” she sighed.  
Mitch stood up from the stupid leather couch, adjusted his oversized black sweatshirt and pulled up his black skinny jeans which had slipped down a little when he was sitting.  
Who knew someone could be so comfortable wearing all black and oversized shirts 24/7.  
Thirty minutes later he was back at the house. He silently prayed Scott wasn’t there as he walked towards the house. Mitch just wanted to take a nap which was hard to do around Scott because he always wanted to go out or talk.  
That was one of his favorite things to do.

Try to squeeze what that crazy psychopath had done to Mitch. Part of Mitch didn’t want to talk about it because it was like he just couldn’t and the other part of him couldn’t truly remember. Only sensations came to him when he was awake. He’d feel a hand on him or hot breath tickling his ear. Nothing that was truly there but it was enough to send him spiraling into panic attacks and hysteria everyday. When he was sleeping though...sleeping was a whole other level. Images vividly played on the backs of his eyelids, everything that had happened. Mitch woke up screaming every night. It was unbelievable he had been able to hide everything from Scott for the most part.   
He sighed from relief when he walked in a saw that Scott wasn’t home yet. Almost immediately Mitch headed towards the couch and laid down. He didn’t need a blanket or pillow.  
He just wanted to sleep.  
And you can’t sleep at night if you’re constantly having nightmares.  
Maybe it would be different though if it was during the day in broad daylight. There was only one way to find out.  
Mitch curled up into a fetal position and rested his head on his hand.  
It only took a few minutes before he slipped away into sleep.

 **Then there was a stench. Of sweat and human waste.  
** He was drenching wet and he could feel the handcuffs and rope digging into his skin, cutting into. He was so thirsty...so thirsty. He wanted water but there was none. He wanted his clothes, Mitch just wanted out of there.  
Then there was _him_. Standing in the corner with a sick twisted smile on his face. He was slowly walking towards Mitch and it was torture.  
He had to get away he HAD TO. But when Mitch blinked, he wasn’t across the room, but then he wasn’t across the room, but already crouching down next to him reaching out. Reaching out to touch and feel and violate Mitch. The hand crept lower and lower and he needed to get away...he had to get away. **He had to.**

**He was surprised when the man started to say his name. Every time he spoke it got louder and louder and the hand was almost to where is should be and-**

Mitch opened his eyes.  
It took a few moments but his eyes finally adjusted and he saw a worried Scott hovering.  
“Are you okay?,” he asked, eyes wide with concern.  
“Yeah. Sorry.”  
Mitch glanced at the clock.  
**9:37pm.**  
Nine hours of sleep? That was new.  
“What....what was that?”

”It was just a bad dream.”  
“Does is happen often?”  
“Yeah I guess.”  
“Can I help?”  
“I don’t know. Maybe?”  
“Alright,” Scott replied, somewhat dropping the matter.  
“Did you already eat dinner Scott?”  
“No. I can order take out if you want though?”  
“No I’ll make something.”

A hour later they were sitting at the dinner table finishing off the vegan spaghetti Mitch had made.  
He quickly glanced at Scott then excused himself.  
“I’m gonna go to bed now. Goodnight Scott.”  
“Goodnight.”  
Mitch rushed to the shower. They had quickly become his favorite thing to do other than attempting to sleep. He had bought copious amounts of body wash and shampoo, scents ranging from lavender to roses to ‘sunset breeze’ whatever the fuck that meant. His therapist had told his new found shower addiction was due to the fact that he probably didn’t feel clean after his ordeal which was probably true.  
But Mitch didn’t particularly pay attention to it.  
Selecting the Rose scented body wash and shampoo he began to wash his body.  
Then the water pressure went way down.  
“Fuck Scott. Always gotta do the fucking laundry at the worst time.”  
Mitch turned the water to jet mode and felt slightly better when the steaming water hit his tired body.  
**Then suddenly he wasn’t in the shower anymore. He was back at the place.  
And there was water on the floor and everywhere and there was a strong stream of water hitting his body.  **

**No. He couldn’t be back here. Not again.  
He curled up into a tiny ball in the corner of the room...no not the room the shower, although it felt just like the room.**

Mitch wasn’t sure how long he stayed sitting in the shower but it had been long enough for the once hot water to turn cold.  
Slowly he uncurled himself and stepped out the shower, wrapping himself in a fluffy towel.  
He quickly looked at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags under them was prominent.  
Mitch look just as tired as he fucking felt.

He put on an oversized T-shirt and his boxers then walked to his room and climbed into bed.  
For someone who barely did anything anymore he was unbelievably exhausted.  
He closed his eyes once more and drifted off into sleep.

~~~~~

He was being shaken. Relatively hard. 

Why was he being shaken?  
Mitch opened his eyes to find Scott staring at him, his face illuminated by the pale moonlight shining through Mitch’s window.  
“Yes?”  
“You were dreaming again,” he whispered.  
“Oh. Sorry for waking you.”  
“It’s fine I wasn’t even asleep. Can I help?”  
“No it’s fine.”  
“Are you sure?“

“Yes Scott.”  
“Okay.”  
Mitch watched Scott walk out then snuggled back down under the soft covers. He was never going to be able to sleep.  
Ever.  
These dreams clearly weren’t going to go away.  
~~~~~

Once again he was being shaken. And once again he opened his eyes to find Scott staring at him.  
“ _What_ ,” he snapped.  
Not saying a word, Scott threw the blanket off of Mitch, picked him up bridal style, and carried him to his room.  
“What the fuck are you doing Scott?”  
“You keep dreaming and It’s scaring the hell out of me. Please just sleep with me tonight and see if it helps.”  
“I’m not sure I can do this Scott...”  
Scott shook his head and laid Mitch down on his bed before climbing in next to Mitch.  
“No...I was googling stu-..”  
“ _GOOGLING SCOTT_? Googling? Fucking seriously?”  
“Just listen... i was googling stuff and one of the things I found out was that I shouldn’t baby you, I should Make sure you do certain things that are a tad bit out of your comfort zone. It’s supposed to help you recover and feel better or whatever.”  
“You sound like my therapist. I don’t think-“  
“No...no. Mitch come on. Please,” Scott said in softly giving Mitch puppy dog eyes.  
“...fine.”  
“Yay!”

Mitch scoffed and rolled his eyes.   
He turned over on his side and closed his eyes but the feeling of someone else behind him set Mitch on edge.  
“...Scott,” he said questioning after a few minutes of bitter silence and discomfort.  
“Hmm?” He Hummed.  
“Sorry to bother you...can you turn on the lamp? I don’t know I’m sorry if that’s bothering you but please?”  
“Oh no, of course Mitch. It’s fine don’t worry,” Scott replied turning on the light and then readjusting his position on the bed.  
There was a good amount of space in between them and Scott was laying flat on his back.  
“Goodnight Mitch...”  
“Night Scott.” 

While Mitch still woke up a few hours later from a nightmare, the rest of the night went without incident.  
When he woke up that morning he found himself being spooned by the larger man. His cheek was resting on his shoulder and his body warmth was radiating into Mitch.  
He felt like a motherfucking furnace.  
A smile played at Mitch’s lips.  
As compromising and slightly embarrassing as the position was, Mitch decided not to tell Scott when he woke up later on.  
It would be his little secret.


	3. IMPORTANT

OK HI

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT 

This story and the one previous is not how I want it to be. It’s cringey so im probs gonna just redo it. So this fic and the first part of it will be re-written into something better :)))

Imma leave this up for rn but soon it will be taken down and the new version will be put up. 

 

Sorry for the inconvenience.

**Author's Note:**

> good or naw?  
> Continue?


End file.
